


The Ghoul

by ItsGonnaBeTotallyAwesome



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Gen, Weasley Family, slight mentions of hinny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 07:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13430304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsGonnaBeTotallyAwesome/pseuds/ItsGonnaBeTotallyAwesome
Summary: August 1997.The burrow gets a visit from two inspectors from the Ministry of Magic, who are looking for Ron.There's just this tiny little problem that the ghoul hasn't moved into Rons room yet.





	The Ghoul

**Author's Note:**

> So folks, this is actually something I wrote back in 2014, and I now decided to make an english version of it. You can check the german version out here . Enjoy :)

(Fred)  
I have to say, our manners, whenever Mum is not here, are always a bit loose. At least nobody cares if you talk with a mouth full of food or eat the pizza with your hands. Ordering pizza in Ottery St. Catchpole was the best idea, Bill had had in a long time. Mum went grocery shopping, since George and I ate the last sausages this morning and only five people are gathered around the table: George and me, Bill and Fleur and Ginny. 

We’re all a bit surprised, when we hear a knock on the door. When was the last time someone knocked? The members of the order walk in and out however they please anyway, same goes for friends.  
Ginny gets up, wipes her greasy fingers on her pants and opens the door.

“Uhm, Hello?”

“Is Ronald Bilius Weasley here?”, asks a deep, authoritarian voice, and I know instantly, that we’re having a problem. Ginny has to know that as well, but she only needs a split second to decide on an appropriate reaction.

“We don’t buy anything”, she sais and slams the door shut.

“Shit”, George and I mutter simultaneously. I know that everyone in this house (except maybe Fleur), is thinking the same thing: The ghoul. He is still in the attic, not in Rons room.

Shit.

I jump to my feet, only registering from the corner of my eyes that the others are doing the same and bolt up the stairs, followed by George and Bill. A slightly confused Fleur is left in the kitchen.

 

(Ginny)  
I notice, that the boys are running up the stairs, and I know, that it’s my job now, to win them as much time as possible.

“Open Up”, barks the voice from the other side of the door. “We are inspectors from the Ministry of Magic, and if you don’t open the door right now, I will blow it up!”

I grew up with Fred and George. That something would get blown up, is not really and impressive threat. But Inspectors from the Ministy, that’s not good.

“Anyone could claim that!”, I yell through the closed door, while I consider to simply rip it open and stun the guys. It would be efficient. But it would mean a lot of trouble we can’t afford. The whole thing with the ghoul could be busted easily as it is, and than we’d have real problems.

The guy outside apparently needs a few second, to grasp what I said.

“Open the door!”, he commands. I guess he dosen’t know what else to say.

It’s probably not a good idea to anger him as much as possible either. I open the door, wide enough, that I can stick my head through and look at him with the most skeptical look I can manage. The guy flashes me his badge and I grab it and look at it as closely and long as I can, before I give it back and finally open the door. The guy (according to his badge, his name is Reginald Fisher) rushes in furiously and somehow looks riddiculous. 

Despite the fact, that he is about as tall and wide as my closet, he looks like a toddler with a tamper tantrum, and I have to fight back the absurd urge to laugh.

And then my eyes drop to the person, accompanying Fisher, and my heart seems to skip a beat. It’s Percy.

 

(Bill)  
The ghoul is heavy and to make matters worse, he keeps on growling and moaning. I can only hope that Georges silencing spell is working. 

That he has red hair and blisters doesn’t make the ghoul one bit more helpful and he doesn’t seem to like, that he’s supposed to leave his usual home. It smells, and the celing up here is so low we need to crouch down. At least ghouls don’t bite – this one at least never has – but I’m getting the feeling, that it’s only a question of time.

“Crap”, I pant and drag the ghoul over to the trapdoor. “We’ll never manage that in time.” 

At least not in a way, that it’s not obvious, that this is a charmed ghoul and not a very sick Ron, and than we’d have a real problem.

George has climbed up the ladder and takes the ghoul from me. I can see how he struggles to keep his balance because of the added weight until Fred comes to his help. As soon as it’s no longer blocked I also pull myself through the trapdoor, just in time to see Fleur running up the stairs, out of breath and with reddend cheeks. She looks even more beautiful than she usually does.

“Bill!”, she pants. “I saw the Moinsieus! Monsieur une is very big and strong and Monseur deux...” She makes a dramatic pause “Is your brother. The nerd one.”

The massage hits me like a brick.

“Do you mean Percy?”

“Oui, Percy.” 

Great. As if the situation isn’t complicated enough already, now Percy. He is difficult to deceive.

 

(Ginny)  
“I demand to speak with Ronald Weasly right now!”, yells Fisher. He is obviously pretty angry.

“That’s impossible”, I say. 

To be on the safe side, I place myself at the end of the stairs to block his way. I didn’t spare Percy a second glance ever since he came in.  
I know it will be much harder, to convince him of the spattergroit-story, than Reginald Fisher, who doesn’t appear to be overly intelligent. Percy is good at detecting lies (Me too, by the way – probably another side effect of a childhood with Fred and George). But Fisher seems to be the boss here, so maybe it’s not even that important, what Percy believes or doesn’t believe. 

I listen for what’s going on upstairs. It’s completely silent. And where did Fleur go?

“Oh, is your brother not here?!”, sneered Fisher. “Dissapeared with Harry Potter or what?”

Harry. My guts contract. Suddenly everything I tried to shove aside, everything I tried to forget is back. DA lessons and quidditch practice and afternoons spend together at the lake and the feeling when our lips touch. And the fear I had shoved aside, far back into the remotest corner of my mind. Everything is back, like a tsunami of memories and feelings. For a second I’m sure that I’m going to black out or vomit or break down in tears.  
Shit. I thought I was over him.  
And then the second is over, and the world is wonderfully clear and simple. Fine, I’m not over him. I still love him. Whatever.

“No, Ron’s here”, I tell Fisher, glad to hear my voice sounds normal.

“Then he has to come here, right now! I demand to speak with him!”, yells Fisher. His head is read from anger, and a vein in pulsing at his temple. It’s an almost hypnotic sight. I’m sure Fisher is a spoiled only-child and always got everything he wanted.

“He can’t come down”, I reply calmly. 

I still can’t hear anything from upstairs and I honestly don’t know whether that’s a good sign or not. I decide, that it can’t possibly be bad for us if I stall Fisher just a little more.

“Why do you want to talk to him anyway?”, I ask, even though I don’t expect more of an answer than “None of your buissnes.” But I get surprised. I don’t know why, maybe it’s because I speak with a calm, friendly voice, but Fisher seems a bit appeased, and lowers himself to an answer.  
“We suspect that he knows about the whereabouts of Harry Potter.” 

Well, he’s right there. But not about Rons whereabouts.

“Really?” I try to sound surprised. “I don’t belive that he does.”

I can see Percys face out of the corner of my eyes. He dosen’t believe me, but that was to be expected. I decide to keep pretending he wasn’t there. I’m really not in the mood for a fight with Percy. 

Fisher appears to be furious again.

“Nobody cares what you believe!”, he spats. “Where is he?!”

“Upstairs”, I say with a vague movement with my hand towards the stairs.

Fisher instantly moves past me and walks up the stairs. For a second I’m so surprised by this prompt reaction, that I can’t react fast enough, but then I realize what’s going on. At lightning speed I rush past him and block his way with outsteched arms.

“Stop”, I scream. “You can’t go up there!”

 

(Bill)  
I cover the ghoul, who luckily looks appeased, with a blanked and look around. It turned out that nobody had bothered to take Harrys camp bet away. I guess Mum was still hoping for the three to return soon. Fred and George had put the bed, that was surprisingly resistant against vanishing charms, in the next room (the bathroom), like they did with Pigwidgeons cage and Harrys pyjama, he left back. Fleur had used several charms to make the room completely spotless and also tidyed up a bit. Meanwhile I had tried to make the ghoul look as much as a sick, sleeping person as possible. All things considered, the outcome was pretty pleasing, and since noone had shown up here, Ginny is obviously doing a good job as well.  
“Okay, let’s go”, I say, took Fleurs hand and pull her out of the room.

 

(Ginny)  
“What’s that supposed to mean, I can’t go up there?” Fisher seems to be impossibly more angry then ten seconds ago.

I consider whether I should come out with the spattergroit story, or if it’s to soon for that.

“I demand right now…”, starts Fisher in a volume loud enough that every single gardengnome outside probably flees in panic.

“Let it all out, my good sir”, sais Fred who has suddenly appeared next to me.

“It’s well known that to bottle up your emotions is not healthy”, sais George who is equally suddenly standing on my other side. Both of them are wearing very polite faces, and I need to suppress a laugh. Fisher is obviously not about to laugh, but he seems to be a bit flustered. Hes quit for a moment.

“You have to be these twins”, he sais pretty unfriendly.

“Oh. Now we’re getting recognised!”, exclaimed Fred dramatically.

“Yeah, it can be exhausting to be famous”, sais George.

“Paparazzi everywhere -”, sais Fred

“And autograph hunters -”

“And crushing girls -”

“Life is not simple, not even for us, belive us.”

Fisher appears to be something in between confused and seriously annoyed. Then he remembers the reason for his visit.

“I demand to speak with Ronald Weasley immediately!”, he tells Fred and George with all of his authority. 

Everyone who has ever tried to take Fred and George down with authority, regretted it afterwards. I could tell Fisher from experience, that what he just did is first of all pointless, because it’s not going to work, and second of all practically an invitation to embarrass him as much as possible.

“Of course, sir”, sais Fred in his best crawling voice.

“Please come this way”, sais George in the same tone and implied with a gesture that Fisher should follow him up the stairs.

I join them, partly because my help might be needed again, and partly because I know that it’s going to be hilarious and I don’t want to miss it. Percy follows me. I keep ignoring him.

“Here we are”, announces Fred when we reach the stairhead. Fisher promptly tries to open the door to Rons room.

“It’s locked”, he sais angrily.

“Of course it is”, sais Fred dryly.

“Why?”, asks Fisher.

“Because noone is supposed to go inside”, sais Geoge.

“But I demand to speak with Ronald Weasley”, snapped Fisher. He uses that autoritherian voice again, apparently he thinks that it works. Also, his repertoire of sentences is clearly very limited, he used that one ten times already.

“This is very impolite”, noticed George.

“What?”, asks Fisher, confused.

“You”, expains Fred.

“I don’t have to put up with your cheekiness, Weasley!”, yelled Fisher.

“Of course not”, sais Fred politely. “We never mean to be cheeky.” George nods. I hear Percy snorting behind me, and this one time I agree with him.

“You refuse to say please and thank you like a civilized person. People don’t like that”, announces George. Fisher looks like he is about to explode.

“Fine”, he growled. “Will you please open the door?”

“No”, sais Fred.

“No?!” I take a few steps back. Safety distance. Who knows what’s going to happen next? To my amusement Percy is doing the same thing.

“In your own interest, we have to deny that request”, sais George with so much fake politeness, that even Fisher has to notice it.

And he does and loses his patience for good. Fisher draws his wand and points it towards Rons door. There is a loud bang, followed by a whoosh and a sound like something very heavy got thrown against the door: Apparently fisher had tried to blow the door up, but was somehow stopped by Fred. I discover with amusement, that Percy fled down a few stairs. Fred and George on the other hand look like things like these happen around them every day. It wouldn’t even surprise me, if that were the case.

“My good sir! We don’t want to get violent, do we?”, sais Fred and shakes is head in disapproval.

“There is a sick person in this room whose recovery should not be disturbed”, announces George with such a professional face, that he’d be convincing as a healer in St. Mungos. 

The vein is pulsing on Fishers temple. I don’t know if it’s still there or again.

“I’m an Inspector from the Ministry of Magic, I have the right to demand you open that door!”

“Ah, from the Ministry!”, sais Fred, as if that was new for him.  
“Then we will open the door for you with pleasure!”, sais George, turns around and knocks his wand two times against the door handle and even holds the door for Fisher.

Fred waits until Fisher has made two steps into the room and sees Ron or rather the ghoul, before he loudly announces:”We don’t actually care, if someone working for the Ministry gets infected with splattergroit!”

Fisher quickly jumps backwards and looks so ridiculous, that I can’t stop myself from laughing.

“You should have warned me!”, Fisher yelles at Fred.

“But we did, didn’t we George?”, he replied with the most innocent face.

“This will have consequences”, hisses Fisher, turns around and marches down the stairs. Percy hurries after him.

“Of course it will”, sais George.

“Tomorrow you will feel this ugly scratching in your throat-”, sais Fred.

“The day after, the fever will start -”

“And the skin rash-”

These two seem to be very well informed. I follow Fisher and Percy, to make sure that they actually leave the house. Fred and George shout words like “Chills” or “vomiting” after them.

When we reach the kitchen and Fisher is already leaving the house, Percy turns around to me.

“Since when is Ron sick? Maybe the first of august? What a coincidence.”

“No, on the first of august he was still a happy guest on Bill and Fleurs weedding.” Apropos Bill and Fleur, where did they go anyway?

“Bill got married?”, asks Percy. He sounds hurt. Apparently he didn’t know. For a second I feel sorry for him. I push that feeling away in an instant.

“Guess what, while you were busy kissing the asses of your bosses, we did other things”, I say and to my satisfaction my voice sounds as cold as I wanted it to sound. Luckily Percy moves in direction of the door.  
But he’s not doing me the favor to leave, instead he turns around again and gives me some of his pointless and, what he thinks, brotherly advice.

“Don’t be dumb Ginny. Just because our parents turn against the Ministry, you don’t have to do the same. You don’t have to do this.”

I stare at him. Did he lose the rest of his mind? What does he think, that I would take our parents side, if I didn’t want to?

“First of all, Mum and Dad are doing the right thing. And Second of all, I don’t need your stupid advice! You have no idea what’s going on and your dumber than a troll!”, I snap at him. He looks appalled, by I don’t even let him open his mouth.

“What? It’s true! To miss that Crouch was possessed by You-Know-Who, is something I could probably understand. But not to notice it with Thickness is pure stupidity. And now leave!” I point at the door.  
To my surprise he actually leaves. 

I glare at his back. What an Idiot. I never liked him much, but now I want to throw something very heavy at his head.

“Loss of the ability to speak!”, Fred shouts after Fisher out of a window upstairs.

“Diarrhea!”, adds George. Then they apparently spot Percy.

“Stupidity!”, both of them yell at the same time. I grin. I was never alone with my opinion on that subject.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope you liked it, drop me a comment here or at my tumblr @massivelysuperbbird


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